


i look to the sky but there's nobody watching

by notthebigspoon



Series: daytripper [3]
Category: Baseball RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-15
Updated: 2012-10-15
Packaged: 2017-11-16 08:24:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/537457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notthebigspoon/pseuds/notthebigspoon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ryan doesn't follow when he should. He waits, watches Kontos take the bump and take his first pitch before he turns away and heads through the dugout into the tunnel. </p><p>Title taken from The World Belongs To Me by My Darkest Days.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i look to the sky but there's nobody watching

**Author's Note:**

> Okay. So we can all agree that Bum's start didn't go so well. That's all I'm saying.

Ryan doesn't follow when he should. He waits, watches Kontos take the bump and take his first pitch before he turns away and heads through the dugout into the tunnel. He can hear the noise only a few feet in and by the time he reaches the clubhouse doors, it's deafening. He opens the door to see what he expected, Bum shouting and snarling and throwing things around. Ryan glares at the stragglers present, points at the door. He and Bum both have enough pull that the room empties. Ryan glances to make sure that they're indeed alone before walking straight towards Madison.

He grabs one of Madison's forearms, startles him enough that the younger man drops the chair he'd grabbed. Madison's other arm comes up and Ryan grabs it as well, tightening his hands until he's sure that they're probably bruising his lover. He shoves Madison's arms down, ignores the struggling and the cursing and the way he's cringed at the knowledge that Madison probably would have punched him. Then, Madison would have punched anyone just then. That helps. A little.

Ryan reorients himself, just keeps Madison's arms pinned and looks him in the eye. “Stop it. Stop the tantrum. You're not helping anyone. You're not helping yourself.”

“Fuck you Vogelsong. Don't fucking touch me.”

“Fuck me, huh? Is that what it's gonna take to stop this?” Ryan smirks.

Madison stares, eyes dilating. Ryan can see it in his eyes, the rage between war and lust and the two of them merging. His answer comes in a rough kiss, hard enough that Ryan's lip splits under it and he's startled into letting go of Madison's arms. Madison grabs his jersey, backs him up into the showers and slams him against the tile. He grunts as the breath goes out of him but that's okay, it's fine, it doesn't matter because what matters is his boyfriend feeling better

Jerseys are untucked. Ryan's turned face first against the wall and he starts to warn, to put a stop to this because he's pitching tomorrow and that makes this a line that can't be crossed. All that happens, though, is Madison grinding against him so hard that it can't actually feel good for him. Except is does, because he's moaning and growling all manners of filth and abuse into Ryan's ear. A rough and calloused hand shoves into Ryan's pants and wraps around his dick, jerking and stroking in the same punishing pace that he's rubbing himself against Ryan's ass.

Ryan's back arches like a bowstring and he gasps out Madison's name in a strangled moan. Madison's laugh is dark, still a little angry, body tense and not just because he's turned on. He turns Ryan, pushes him onto his knees and Ryan opens his mouth, gags when Madison pushes straight down into his throat. He closes his eyes, pushes past the gag reflex, works his lips and tongue just how he knows Madison likes it, one hand gripping his boyfriend's thigh, nails digging in.

When Madison comes, in Ryan's mouth and snarling, it's like all the fight suddenly drains out of him. He pulls out of Ryan's mouth, stumbles back until his back hits the opposite wall and he slowly sinks down it. He he fixes his pants and rests his arms on his knees, stares at the tile. Ryan shakes his head, crawling slowly toward him and sits up on his aching knees. He curls a hand behind Madison's neck, pulls him into a kiss to let him taste before pulling back and looking him straight in the eye.

“Feel better?” Ryan asks. His voice is wrecked, raspy like he gargled glass and chased it with whiskey. Madison's head snaps up. His eyes are dark again and he reaches out, pulls Ryan back in for another, harder kiss. Ryan laughs and pushes himself up onto his feet. His legs shake and so do his hands as he straightens himself, tucks his jersey back in and fixes his hoodie, grabs his hat and puts it back on. When he's presentable, he smiles at Madison. “I'll take that as a yes.”

“Fucker.” Madison mutters, but he no longer looks angry at the world. Not happy yet. Even with awesome dirty sex, which has so far been Madison's favorite kind, he's still wound up.

It's okay, Ryan thinks as they go back out into the tunnels and return to the dugout. The rest of the team sends them slant eyed glances, wondering what Ryan did to bring the Bum back before turning their attention back to the game. Madison takes the looks like he always does, tenses and clenches his jaw. Ryan trails his fingertips over Madison's arm and the skin where bruises will probably bloom up later. It's okay if Madison doesn't calm down now. Ryan can fuck the angry out of him when they get home.


End file.
